“You’d be amazed,” sang Mr. Godfrey, “at the number of customers who ask this very question. It happens so often I’ve constructed a side entrance for this purpose.” The large man pulled the rear curtain and gestured to a flap that led to the alley behind his stall.
“Thank you,” said Declan, taking Helena by the hand. “Any idea who your neighbors are? To the back?”
“But of course,” said Mr. Godfrey. “It’s dear Mr. Jones-Tussle. We set up near each other when we can. Old friends, don’t you know.”
“Please tell me,” grumbled Declan, slipping into the alley, “that Mr. Jones-Tussle sells Japanese screens or giant hats.”
“No,” said Godfrey, “textiles.”
“Close enough,” said Declan, and he pulled Helena into the opposite tent.
Chapter Thirteen
They were laughing when they spilled into the textile booth. Declan held her behind him, looking around. The tent was empty. And styled like a harem room. Heavy woven tapestries hung from the walls; the floor was piled with pillows. The dirt was padded by carpets. Colorful yarn weavings hung from the spokes of the tent.
Helena grabbed his shoulders from behind. “Where did you see Lusk?” she asked breathlessly, her lips close to his ear.
“Across from Godfrey’s stall. He was two yards away.” He turned his face to hers, his heart thudding.
She nudged closer to his ear. “It’s a little exciting,” she whispered, “to evade him.” She brushed his cheek with her nose. His hat fell.
“Helena,” he rasped. A very weak warning.
She released his shoulders and pulled off her gloves. She pressed into his back, sliding her hands over his shoulders and down his chest. “Everything you do is exciting.”
“Helena, we mustn’t,” he rasped. “This tent isnot private. This . . . interlude is not part of the plan.Thisis the opposite of the plan.”
“I hate the plan.” Her lips were so close to his mouth.
“The plan is your idea.” He felt behind him, grabbing her hip.
“But you designed it.”
She kissed him. She couldn’t reach his lips, but almost. She kissed the side of his mouth, his cheek, his ear.
Declan turned his head to meet her. The kiss was meant to be quick and finalizing. But she licked him. She went up on her toes, almost climbing his back. One kiss became two, became ten.
He growled and twisted, grabbing her by the waist and sliding her into his arms.
“It’s not a bad plan,” he said, kissing her properly, “all things considered.”
“It’s a lovely plan,” she breathed. “I’m thrilled by the plan...”
And now she jumped up, straddling him. He caught her bottom with two hands.
“You thrill me,” she laughed.
Declan bounced her in his hands, finding the exact perfect alignment of her body. They were suspended there, reveling in the rare combination of familiar and fleeting. He knew her body, even when he should not. They’d done this before, but they shouldn’t do it now. It was reckless and pulse-pounding and she was impossible to resist.
“Do you know,” she panted between kisses, “I was actually worried I’d be bored when I came to London.”
“Easily bored, are you?” he teased, but in his head he thought,I am a diversion to her.
And then,Does it matter?He delved his tongue into her mouth. He’d pleasured scores of women in his life and never cared about it beyond their mutual release. This could be no different. He could be her diversion.
“Running away was a suitable distraction.” She sighed, digging her hands beneath his collar to find heated skin. “But I’d no idea how diverting compliance would be.”
“I’ve got news for you, sweetheart. This is not compliance.” He shifted her into one hand and bit off a glove, shifted her again and bit off the other. Every readjustment pressed her tantalizingly against his need. Helena squirmed and moaned into his mouth, setting off an explosion of sensation. Declan kissed her harder, kissed her breathless. He kissed her until his legs shook and he was forced to widen his stance to support them. Her roving hands slid between them, seeking the heavy bulge of his erection.
